


Taste of Your Own Skin

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Light Bondage, M/M, Self-cest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the ask-box prompt on tumblr: Future!Cas knows how to get what he wants from his Dean; and what he wants is to see him dominating his past self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Your Own Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This is by far the dirtiest porn I've written. In my opinion, anyway. Mind you I've written wing!fic come-shot, soo... Yeah. Anyway, I don't own anything. Kripke takes all. 
> 
> No beta, quickly edited by me. Let me know if you see anything too bad in here.
> 
> Enjoy!

Their faces were the same, yet so different. Virtually all the same scars on the surface, but underneath one man’s skin there was a mask of stone built to keep him from falling apart under his own weight. The weight of his failure and a world burning alive. His counterpart looked so young, even if he was anything but. He was wide-eyed and unused to the world he’d been thrust into by an aggravated angel. He’d seen their soul, in Hell and on Earth and even if he was human it still hummed just below the surface. Seeing the version of Dean from five years prior was a shock, everything was brighter and less guarded.

He knew what he wanted the moment he saw him.

Cas went to his Dean, the hard Dean that would shoot a man point-blank with little to no explanation because it was necessary. The one his past-self despised. He knew how to get what he wanted from his Dean. Castiel may not have been a leader or authoritative, but he knew which buttons to press on Dean.

The very few emotions Dean had left were usually only exposed around the former angel. Any moment of weakness he was willing to show was in his cabin, driven into a mattress with no heed paid to volume. It was safe to say some of the women in camp were a bit jealous of him. They didn’t understand — couldn’t understand. Nor did Dean want them to.

But Cas, he did understand and he knew what Dean needed. He wanted to punish himself. Wanted to get control of a time frame that was so out of control he could scarcely remember it. Now he had the chance.

That wasn’t what he said in so many words, that was too straight-forward. Instead, he lay on top of Dean in a sated heap after a particularly long session. It seemed anymore the best sex they got was from each other, no matter who else they slept with. Connections be damned, Dean only let himself go with Castiel. His fingers tapped their way across Dean’s skin, a small scar on his chest from jumping out of a window to escape croats drawing his attention. Dean only ever let Castiel play with his scars.

His lips brushed against the shell of their fearless leader’s ear, a gesture so intimate it was almost meaningless with them. Intimacy had nothing to do with it, not anymore.

“Do you think you could over-power him? He’s younger, his right knee isn’t fucked up.” Dean stared at him, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out where Cas was going. “His left elbow hasn’t been popped in and out of socket nearly as many times. He’s in better shape…” He smiled to Dean lewdly, tracing across the scar to the tattoo and up to other man’s neck.

Dean flipped them so he was pressing Cas into the mattress, his weight pinning him in a way it didn’t five years before. “What’re you gettin’ at, Cas?”

Castiel chuckled lowly, fingers trailing up Dean’s sides. He could see the tick in his jaw as he ground his teeth. Almost too easy sometimes. “You always did call me a kinky fuck.”

When he winked Dean growled and smirked before biting him and preparing for another round.

The younger Dean wasn’t too opposed to the idea, but he still fought. In the end Cas’ Dean won, tying his hands behind his back, his shirts stripped off while he prepared to cut his pants away. He was seated in one of the more sturdy chairs Cas had. When he tried to kick the older Dean only laughed, side-stepping him and leaning in for a kiss. Castiel didn’t bother hiding his moan.

Younger Dean stared at him when the kiss broke, glancing between them. The mask on his counterpart’s face broke as he followed his line of sight. He looked back and spoke lowly. Cas could still hear him.

“Tell me there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him.” They kissed again, the chair groaning under their combined weight as his Dean sat in his double’s lap. He stripped his shirts off, both of them shirtless for Cas’ enjoyment. When the kiss broke a rough hand forced the wide-eyed visitor to make eye contact with their voyeur. Dean’s lips were against his ear, much the same way Cas’ had been against his. “You can’t say you wouldn’t, because you’d be a fucking liar.”

There shouldn’t have been such a visceral pleasure in hearing Dean say that, but he was almost sober and any emotion that didn’t leave him wanting to plant a bullet in his head was welcome. He watched his friend yank their guest’s head back his hair, the other hissing in discomfort but not complaining otherwise.

“Tell me how you think about fucking your angel.” He licked a stripe up the other man’s throat, nipping at his Adam’s apple.

Cas palmed his erection through his pants, hearing the rough swallow from the bound man. He was swearing under his breath, trying to shift his hips up to find friction. 

“All the fucking time. God, it drives me nuts.” His voice was wrecked, rough hands squeezing his upper body with bruising force. “Can’t get off unless I think about it.”

When he went home people might think he got into a brawl, his skin would be mottled all over. They wouldn’t know how close they were. His older version chuckled, grinding down into him before leaning in for another kiss. They both moaned, the sound amplified in the small space of Cas’ cabin. The scene playing out was both what he expected and far more than he’d anticipated. He took off his shirt, catching how both Deans looked at him when he did. A lazy smile greeted them as he kept rubbing himself.

It was the older hunter’s turn to have his neck attacked, teeth pulling and lips smacking against his skin. He reached down and undid both of their belts and flies, cocks sitting obscenely between their bodies, hard and waiting for attention. Dean used both hands to grip them, smiling as his younger self jerked against the rope that was probably chafing into his wrists. Torture taught him to do a few things very well.

He jacked them off together, calloused hands tugging and squeezing them roughly. Castiel pulled himself out, stroking slowly as he watched both men writhe and stare at each other. Biting kisses were stolen, someone’s lip split if the blood was any indication.

Even after their last kiss broke their faces were close, eyes closed as they panted heavily. He could feel his own orgasm building, his skin tingling in a way far more addicting than any drug he’d found.

His hunter bit roughly into a shoulder that mirrored his, the skin slightly smoother with five years less wear and tear. He didn’t break surface, just provided enough pain to make man under him keen. Pain always made pleasure more enjoyable for Dean.

He trailed up to the younger hunter’s ear again. “You don’t even know how tight he is yet, how fucking perfect he can be. Promise you, when you start you won’t want to stop. And he won’t make you.” He sucked a harsh mark into the unmarred flesh bared to him. His rhythm was faltering, they were both close and just watching it pushed Castiel closer, too. He teased the head with his fingers, unable to take his eyes away from the desperate men in front of him.

Dean stood abruptly, pulling his hapless twin’s head forward to suck his cock. Cas watched as they stared at each other, precisely aware of what they were doing. Dean’s hips rolled fluidly, not wanting to choke his bound partner. His head fell back, a low moan shaking through the air. Spit was leaking out from abused lips, dripping down and as Cas watched he wanted to go in and lick everything up. A loud slurp was all Castiel could take, the orgasm that had been building from the moment the rope was tied pushing through him. His back arched, his hips thrusting up instinctually as he spilled across his pale skin with a soft groan.

He heard a rough shout from his side, Dean’s hips stilling as he was swallowed down. His cock fell free, small strings of come clinging to the skin. He went to his knees, smirking at the neglected dick that sat where he left it, nearly purple now.

“Got you that much harder from sucking yourself off, Dean? Damn, don’t think I remember being such a whore.”

They both chuckled and Dean yanked the seated man down further, his jeans slipping just below his ass as he was put into a better position. Castiel’s spent dick gave a valiant effort to be interested as his friend returned the attention he’d just been paid. His younger self slumped into the chair, relaxing as a very skilled mouth worked him over. Cas could see that he was trying to hold off, trying to enjoy it but he also knew just how vindictive Dean could be. If he wanted someone to come, there was little they could do to stop it. 

Dean’s tongue swirled over the tip, slick and teasing as it rubbed over the plump head. The man above him was gritting his teeth, breath coming in short pants as his hips jerked uselessly. His arms tensed, the skin of his wrists rubbed visibly raw from his earlier thrashing. He growled, spreading his legs as wide as much as he could while his come was swallowed.

A lecherous smile graced Castiel’s face, this was too good to end.

The younger Dean laughed breathily, sighing contentedly. “Sucking my own dick can now be crossed off my bucket list.”

Cas’ Dean stood, not bothering to put himself away as he stretched and eyed the ex-angel’s prone form. He bit his lip and Cas knew what he was thinking. “You wanna ride him?”

He shucked off his pants, but shook his head. “No, I think you should. Then you can know what it feels like to be filled with such a large cock.” He smiled crookedly, spreading his legs wide in an obvious display.

“You really are a kinky fucker, Cas.” Dean looked down at their playmate, his expression shell-shocked. “What d’you say, Dean? Ready for round two?”

The other man schooled his features, a cocky smirk lifting his swollen lips. “Ready when you are.”


End file.
